


Moments

by Grinner_H



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series, Naruto, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:18:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinner_H/pseuds/Grinner_H
Summary: Five drabbles about love.





	1. Heart

You are such a goddamn _tease._

It's what I think, most days, even when you mesmerize me the way you do, till I can't fucking _think._

Here I am, barefoot on the beach with my arms full of your clothes - clothes you'd discarded all over the fucking house like a breadcrumb trail, leading me out the door, leading me to where you stand in nothing but your underwear, facing the waves.

And I'm probably gaping like an idiot. How could I _not,_ when you're pulling that pin from your hair, when I'm watching those fine locks spill from your head and tumble about your shoulders, down your back like a blood red waterfall?

How could I be anything but transfixed when you look over your shoulder at me with that come hither look, your perfectly kissable lips turned upward in a coquettish smile?

You're too beautiful, and I know I must've done something pretty fucking awesome to have won your heart. 

You've long since stolen _mine_ \- my heart, my mind, my breath. Every day I am reminded of it, in moments like this one, watching you bathed in moonlight like my own midnight goddess.

You unclasp your bra, toss it at me before running toward the ocean. I watch you pause before the shoreline, looking back at me again, thumbs hooked in the waistband of your lace panties. 

And you say, "You gonna help me take these off?"

Such a fucking _tease._

And you've got me, like you get me _every fucking time,_ hurriedly dropping these clothes - yours _and_ mine - and following the sound of your laughter into the ocean.


	2. Life

Their first time is in the men's bathroom in a gay nightclub - the only one they could find somewhere between Knoxville and Rockford.

Yuuri presses Sara into the graffitied bathroom wall, right up against _Travis is a douche… but he sure gives good head!_ scrawled in black ink over peeling red paint.

Sara's got her legs wrapped around Yuuri's waist like a needy little thing. Her elegant fingers are punishing grips upon Yuuri's shoulders. Her shirt is a rumpled mess upon the toilet seat. Her bra dangles from the doorknob. Her leopard-print miniskirt is still on, though she's wearing nothing underneath.

Yuuri slants his mouth against hers, catching her full bottom lip in his teeth. His hands on either side of her ribcage linger like a threat. His cock slides easily into her wet cunt and he feels her legs go crushingly tight around him.

They set a rhythm. Their bodies are a dance, melting into each other like two rivers of liquid heat. The muted thumping bass of house music filters through the bathroom door.

From the adjacent stall, someone bangs upon the shared wall, yelling at them to _"Shut the fuck up, you goddamn breeders!"_

And Sara _moans_ \- loud, wanton, _obnoxious._

Yuuri presses his snicker to the graceful line of her neck, kisses a trail down to the valley of her breasts. He sinks into her - teeth, nails, cock - over and over again.

And in his arms, Sara crumbles, melts, surrenders.


	3. Voice

This was one of those kinds of days, Takaba realized, when he found Asami seated alone in the darkened living room, silhouetted by dying firelight.

There was a bottle of Glenfiddich - two-thirds empty - within the tight clutch of Asami's fingers. The glaring absence of a whisky glass did not go unnoticed.

Takaba really hated these kinds of days. 

Asami was lost to him, locked away in the darkest places of his mind and memories, tangled up in a burdensome history Takaba could only wonder about because Asami was too goddamn _stubborn_ to ask for help.

Takaba never knew - never _understood_ \- that darkness, the one that kept Asami behind his wall of answers withheld.

But Takaba understood _Asami._

He knelt before his lover, watching the play of shadows upon his face, the play of emotions in Asami's eyes that sparked tiger-bright in the dark. 

Guilt. Rage. Shame. _Pain._

Takaba read them all. 

In moments like these, Asami was at his most dangerous. 

But in all the time they'd spent together, Takaba had never learned how to fear him. 

So he gently took the bottle from Asami's hand and set it on the floor, by the chair leg. He climbed into his lover's lap and held his gaze, bright and unwavering even as the fire died out, and spoke without words.

And Asami listened.


	4. Reason

The first time is a shock. 

The blade of his katana sticking out of your chest, slick with your own blood. _A backstabbing knife through the heart._ It's so fucking _bizarre,_ you'd laugh if you didn't feel so goddamn numb.

His words ring cold in your ear. He speaks them with a dangerous kind of vehemence. _Passion,_ though none of it's meant for _you._

The thing is, you'd thought you were the only one who changed. 

You never realized that _he_ did too.

—

When you wake, it is to the sight of a dark gray sky. The earth is dry against your back. You think you might be dead, but your chest hurts - this biting, tearing thing that makes you want to gouge out your eyes, tear out your own heart, just so you can make this fucking _stop._

Didn't someone once say that pain meant you were still alive? 

You sit up, press your hand to your throbbing flesh. You expect to see blood on your fingers, but they come off dry. And gray.

 _Everything_ is gray here - the clouds, the trees, the grass, your body. 

Your wound has vanished. You can't find a heartbeat within your breast. But there is pain. Waves and waves of it. 

Beside you, the running river bleeds red, red, red.

—

The second time is of your own will. 

This is what you'd like to think, when you feel the vines snap from your back, when your breath comes harder and faster through your cracked lips.

Deep down, you know, this is nothing but an illusion of control. 

Hashirama is there - behind you, above you. A mockery of what he once was, but he's still _there,_ always in your veins, your heart, your mind.

You have never been able to escape him. 

_(You never **want** to.)_

And as life leaves you, you think of how he'd sustained you all these years, long after he was already gone.

—

When you wake, the world is alight with color. 

Only, everything is still. No hint of a breeze. No sound from the forest. The clouds, unchanging. The river, motionless. Stuck in a snapshot of life and you're the only thing capable of moving.

Your heart hurts with a blinding emptiness. 

_(He isn't here.)_

You sit by the riverbank and wait. 

Somehow, the wait feels unbearably long.

—

The third time, he is by your side.

You speak of your mistakes. He speaks of his. Grief and agony and regret on repeat. Unvoiced apologies and no more time.

You have never felt so tired. You know that you're about to die, and once more, he will be there, watching you leave. 

But for the first time, he will die with you. 

You think you could live with that. 

So you take a breath. And you let go.

—

When you wake, he is still there. 

He is (as you are) in the body of a child - in those ridiculous clothes, with that ridiculous hair. His grin is sun-bright. "Hey," is the first thing he says. It is a word loaded with affection and meaning. It frightens you as much as it pleases you.

Around you, the world teems with life. The rustle of the leaves. The sounds of the forest. The flow of the river. The rhythm of his breaths. You don't want any of it to ever stop.

Hashirama's smile falls from his face. The deep, brown lakes of his eyes are filled with concern. His are tentative fingers against your pallid cheek. "Madara, are you alright?"

And you think, _Yes._ Think, _No._ Think, _I've waited too goddamn long for you, and now you're **here,** you're **with** me, you're **alive** \- _

There is an ache in your chest - this crushing, overwhelming thing that makes you wanna laugh and cry and scream all at once. But all you can manage - in a voice too quiet - is, "This is where I'd be."

Hashirama's eyebrows scrunch in apparent confusion. "Huh?"

"This is where I'd wake up… when I died."

He reaches over, plucks a stray leaf from your untamed hair. "Why?" he asks, though his eyes are bright and knowing, and his smile, fond.

"Because this is where we began." 

_("Because here - with you - I was truly happy.")_

Hashirama laughs - this loud, loud thing that washes over you like a warm, cleansing wave. He takes your hand and leans in close, so damn _close,_ and you're convinced you can feel the crazy thump of your heart's beat. 

"Well," he says, holding your gaze with eyes that are bright and earnest and so, so _alive._ "I think we can begin again."

—

Maybe there isn't gonna be a fourth time. 

But if there _is,_ you'll get it right.


	5. Love

We're such a mess, lying in the meadow, speckled with mud and grass and stray leaves. 

It's one of those weird days, where it rains while the sun's still out; bright in the kind of way that hurts my eyes every time I glance skyward. 

But it's okay, 'cause I'd rather be looking at _you._

You by my side, blades of grass in your thick hair, streak of dirt on your cheek. 

Earlier, we wrestled like boys in the earth. Even though we're both seventeen and too fucking old for that kinda shit. 

But it felt good. Just me and you and daylight, rolling around like the kids we used to be. 

And it feels really fucking great right now, watching you lie by my side, your eyes closed and your wild grin still present. 

I return my gaze heavenward, shut my eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun. I breathe in deep. Let oxygen and freedom and tranquility fill my lungs. 

If I could freeze this moment, I would. I _like_ this peace, the ordinariness of it all. I like that I can be myself around you, free from judgment. 

And then I hear you say, _"Do you - "_ at the very same moment I say, _"Hey - "_

It's funny how we decided to break this silence at the same time.

I sit up. I can feel the wet grass clinging to my back. I can feel your intent gaze upon me. 

I look at you, lying there with your dark hair that's fanned out beneath you, your arms and legs spread as if you're attempting to create a snow angel in the wrong season. 

And I think that - in this moment - no one could mar your perfection. 

There is a curious confusion in your charcoal eyes. I like watching your lips part around the sound of my name. "Tobirama? What were you going to say?"

I could say so much. I could tell you that you're the only one I ever show this side of myself to. I could say that your presence comforts me. I could say that I really wanna kiss you right now.

But the thing is, with you? Words aren't necessary. They never were.

So I lean over you, brushing the hair from your eye, pressing my mouth to yours.

You let me in. 

And I fill my lungs with you.


End file.
